


I love you, a bushel and a peck (a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck)

by hawrthiacoopri



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, I KNOW THAT I'VE LITERALLY ONLY WRITTEN MILEVEN AND TRANSBOY MIKE, THIS FIC IS EATING MY SOUL AND I THOUGHT ABOUT IT ALL DAY, and im so excited to share it, and im sorry, and thanks to Rosy for being the greatest, but WOW isi t short and desc heavy, but i like this so tell me if it's bad, just listen - Freeform, so now im writing it!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8400298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawrthiacoopri/pseuds/hawrthiacoopri
Summary: Handsome was too rough. Handsome was calloused hands and strong chests and a deep, throaty voice. Mike was soft and delicate, all gentle lines and tiny, sharp angles.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rosy_el](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosy_el/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8306405) by [Rosy_el](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosy_el/pseuds/Rosy_el). 



> OK so this is insp by one of the fics by the great rosy_el and her story "stars" which ill add in the section for works inspired by but I wanted to get that out of the way. I'm sorry of you don't like your work being used but this fic idea has been eating my soul and I might rewrite it with More Description (because obviously five paragraphs isn't enough).
> 
> .
> 
> The title is from "Bushel and a peck", from Guys and Dolls.

El had been living in what she liked to call the " _real world_ " for about two years now, and she still didn't quite get social niceties.

Small talk and flirting were lost on her. Paying for things with money was a strange interaction. Inside voices were easy, as they'd always been, but speaking up wasn't something she knew how to do.

And most importantly, El Byers didn't understand why certain words weren't for her and certain words were.  
For example; one day, while she and Mike were hanging out, El had come across a particularly nice picture of Mike.

" _Pretty_ ," she breathed, her hand clasped around his wrist and her toes pointed in an attempt to see the Wheeler family's mantle, as she tapped the glossy square. The Michael in the photo was wearing a collared shirt (with a striped jumper, no less), and his hair looked as if he'd attempted to comb it, but it had been mussed in the process of getting to school. His porcelain skin was only accentuated by his smattering of freckles, which had been the recipient of many a block class ignored. She had spent quite a few periods scrutinizing, if you were El, but staring, if you were Lucas, at the way that Mike's ladybird nose twitched when he was nervous, and how his freckles seemed to gleam gold in certain lights in the rising morning.

He looked so gorgeous.

She remembered that day, in fact; she'd hugged him on the way into school and quickly threaded her fingers through his hair before heading to class, and he'd put his arm, however tentatively, around her waist. Gorgeous tentative Mike Wheeler and his gorgeous tentative hands.

Mike wrinkled his perfect nose, frowning slightly in a way that made El want to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. "Not pretty..." he muttered, but flushing a bright pink anyways, "Handsome. Girls are pretty. Boys are... Handsome."

El frowned, too, at that line. Handsome didn't have the right meaning to describe the boy in front of her.

Handsome was too rough. _Handsome_ was calloused hands and strong chests and a deep, throaty voice. Mike was soft and delicate, all gentle lines and tiny, sharp angles.

He had a severely cut figure, with deep collarbones and a willowy face. The whole Wheeler family did, really. It must be a hereditary gene, he thought. But Mike, especially. He'd gotten taller over time, towering over his friends, like a skeletal tree. He had long legs, with thin arms and hands that were only attached to his wrists with the threads of blue.

He had beautiful dark eyelashes that looked almost fake set into his face elegantly. He had a chiseled bone structure, and hands that were constantly moving and working.

"Why can't boys be pretty?" Mike snapped out of his reverie, looking at El sideways.

"What?" Mike raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I guess guys can be pretty. It's just a little weird to describe guys with such a girly word." he swung their hands absently.

"I think you're pretty, Mike," El said hopefully, stepping a little closer to him as she said his name.

Mike took a tiny step forward, entranced by El's eyes. They were such a rich brown, he thought. "Oh yeah?"

She smiled sweetly, manipulating Mike's hands onto her waist. The tip of his nose seemed to get impossibly pinker. "Very."

Mike tried to ignore that his _hands_ were on El's _waist_ and coaxed her onto her toes lightly, so that he might be able to get even closer to her. 

"Well..." He licked his lips and gulped, setting his Adam's apple bobbing and unknowingly setting off a twinge in El's chest, "Well, I think you're pretty too, El Byers."

He did it quickly, darting in and out, pressing a quick kiss onto El's lips before hugging her tight. He wasn't sure why; hugs were usually only exchanged when she was sad or anxious. But it just felt right, his chest flush against her head, his hands burning through the fabric of El's jacket.

She curled her hand into the hair at the nape of Mike's neck and smiled into his chest. "We can be pretty together."

**Author's Note:**

> I know this has been a whole lot of mileven. And I'm very sorry to those of you who are tired of it! I'm open to prompts at any time :^)


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